


Metropolitan

by minttcm



Category: Monsta X
Genre: 20th Century, AU, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Businessman Minhyuk, Family Drama, Fluff, HyungHyuk - Freeform, Immigration & Emigration, M/M, Minhyuk is an heir, Showki, also a poet, artist!wonho, elements of the old metro manila, give kihyun a break, shoeblack hyungwon, the rich and the poor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 10:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15022217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minttcm/pseuds/minttcm
Summary: Set in the 20th century, Metro Manila.Lee Minhyuk, the only son of a prominent businessman who has found work in the budding Metro Manila stumbles upon a striking shoeblack while on his way to court a woman he is not after.-Or: Lee Minhyuk is your not-so-typical rich boy in an arranged marriage and somehow falls in love with the mysterious shoeshiner, Hyungwon. Problem is, he doesn't seem to be too keen on associating himself with the rich and powerful. But Minhyuk's trying alright.





	1. Escolta

**Author's Note:**

> I KEEP HAVING IDEAS. BUT I FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS ONE. JUST SOME GOOD 'OL COURTSHIP AND STUFF I FIGURED HYUNGHYUK WOULD DO GOOD, I ALSO GOT INSPIRATION FROM MXRAY LOL.

It is a few hours before dusk.

He hears footsteps from the stairs.

"The roses, do you think she'll like them?" He asks a little too softly, voice barely heard over the engines of rich men's cars and the usual hustle of the metropolitan.

"We're in the city, Minhyuk. Surely she misses them." His lips purse, red as the boquet and hair as black as ink on freshly written poetry.

There is an exasperated sigh that escapes the other's lips, longing for a smoke outside. He tightens the cufflinks on his sleeve and removes his jacket.

The other notices.

"It's hotter here than usual, isn't it,"

He feels the sweat on his brows and the billows of smoke clouding above him. "Those damn machines."

A quiet laugh follows. So very unlike the boisterous bussinessmen knocked off their boots on fresh wine and roasted lechon unsettling their wives as they scutter off with the clatter of wooden slippers and open fans.

He thinks for a moment, "The car shall arrive soon. Best practice your English, I heard Lady Jiyeon's second husband is arriving. The American one."

"Yes, Kihyun." His tone is sweet, the bitterness leaking out and his anger spurting from the way he grabs the posy and leaves his coat still on the chair.

A smirk tugs on Kihyun's lips. He leans on the wall.

_"No sense of decency at all."_

* * *

  
The path is smooth but the journey is long.  
He has half a mind to buy a pint of fresh carabao's milk from a vendor but the drive lulls him to sleep.

He wakes, fingers clutched tightly on the paper wrapping around the viridescent stems but he does not let go. Instead, taking in the view of his surroundings.

The chaffeur pays no mind.

They have arrived at Escolta, just a few more minutes before he reaches Lady Jiyeon's tailorshop. A small but highly esteemed business. As rich as she was, her parsimonious demeanor made her the talk of the town.

"Did you get the lady roses? Heard she loves them,"

"I did." He answers curtly.

"So which one is it you're trying to impress? Mari? Mayumi?"

He shrugs, grasping tighter on the stems, teeth biting down his lips before anything vile comes out of him. They settle onto silence instead.

"You can stop here."

The chaffeur halts in surprise. "It's still quite a bit of a walk."

"This will suffice." He says unkindly, handing him a few coins.

"I've already been pai-"

Minhyuk does not listen anymore.  


* * *

  
The foreign charm of Escolta had always amused and annoyed him simultaneously. Almost as if he was a stranger every time he visited the place. Unfamiliar European structure and esteemed men. He never grew to love any of it.

His pace is slow and he drags his feet trying to convince himself it would be over soon. But he knew it wouldn't.

What of his family earning the respect of Lady Jiyeon through their money. His parents hauled him and tried to mold their only son into the perfect husband. To them, it seemed as if it were a match made in heaven.

He almost snorts at the idea. Another for his unbecoming behaviour.

Minhyuk starts to see the pots of flowers by the walls and walks toward the familiar house, but not before almost toppling over a pair of shoes he didn't notice.

"I just cleaned those, you know."

He notices a young but tall man seated on a small stool, tools for cleaning laid on top of old newspaper mats. The sun hitting his skin, tanning him ever so slightly. For a shoe shiner, he was incredibly attractive.

Minhyuk crouches down to the pair of shoes he had just stepped on and tries to wipe the marks off with his handkerchief, only lessening it's shine more. The immediate dull of the shoes increases his anxiety.

"Those are sir Ray's too..." Minhyuk notices the warmth and softness of the shoeshiner's hands when he eases his own with the dirtied pair.

"I'm so sor-"

"It's alright. You're on your way to court one of Lady Jiyeon's daughters, right? I've seen you visit before."

He is way to preoccupied gazing at the man's features to even answer his question.

"Well I, uh there's..." His tongue stumbles to find the right words, "I better get going."

Minhyuk stands up immediately, dusting off his trousers. He walks just a bit too fast. 

"Wai-" His words fall short, realizing the man was out of earshot. 

The evening darkens. 

He looks at what is left of him, a bunch of roses with the morning dew still intact. 

He realizes it is time to go home. 

But he waits. 


	2. Manor Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments! This isn't my best chapter but math is currently making my head dizzy so please bear with me, I'll get better by the next chapter. I'm posting chapter 2 today because I'll be busy this week lol, but I'll be back by next week.

His hands feel hollow the moment he knocks on the sandalwood doors.

A small face greets him, with honey tan skin and round eyes. Curled dark hair round up in a bun, a floral headress atop.

A maidservant.

Minhyuk tries no to look down, her hands already shaking at his stance. But the maid is much more petite, and nothing else more genuine than her was worth looking at.

* * *

 

He was a poet above all. A man before a tool of trade.

But it is not much different, he thinks.

_Both are liars._

"Fine weather, isn't it Miss Jiyeon?" Minhyuk presses his forehead on the back of her outstretched hand.

It flutters back to her lips as she giggles. "Business is good around this season."

He raises a brow. The hotter it was only meant that thinner fabric was sought for. And those were always much more cheaper.

"I can say as much," He smiles.

The mistress' eyes saunters before she coughs. "Terribly sorry, I think my daughters are still preparing." She turns her back. "Mari, Mayumi! Lee's son has arrived!"

Without wasting a second, Minhyuk hears the shuffle of their sandals.

Donned in the latest most expensive Traje de Mestiza, faces plastered in thick white powder with shining bright lips on display they make their way to their mother, abaniko fans fluttering like butterflies.

He remembers the roses he'd left for the shoeshiner.

"Has your journey served to be tiresome?" Mari asks, voice barely a whisper.

He laughs. "Not if I get to see you."

Her red lips part as a gasp escapes, but she catches herself and turns to roll her eyes, waving her fan much faster.

* * *

 

He is left alone with the Lady Jiyeon, as the others excuse themselves to prepare for dinner.

"Beautiful, isn't she," She starts, "The maquillage and the pearls- they were given to her by Elias. Crisanto's son and soon to be doctor. Heard he went around Europe to study, but came back just a few months ago to visit my dear Mari."

Minhyuk tries to swallow the slick oil that is her voice when she speaks of her daughter like newly-bought jewelry.

"I-"

"He is set to arrive in Manila by August. The weather is horrible around June."

He does not care for anything else sputters from her pretty mouth. He understood her implications well enough, Jiyeon planned to set up a competition between them and reap it's benefits as much as she could.

 _'This is why your husband left you,'_  he thinks to himself. His heart for adventure back in Manhattan drinking his heart away. It surely was a cruel time to get married.

* * *

 

They get called to dinner no later than seven pm.

He is greeted by a polished wooden table filled large platters fo food. His eyes drift back to the two sisters, and he wonders if they could even finish any of them at all.

Very much like their mother, he notices. Always biting off more than they can chew.

He takes his seat to the left of Lady Jiyeon, right in front of Mari, with Mayumi just beside her.

Mari never looked him in the eye.

"Will Anthony not arrive?"

"His trip was most likely delayed."

There is a glum silence that follows soon after and Minhyuk's feet start to itch from under the table.

"Let's pray, shall we?" He offers with a smile.

* * *

 

They continue to dine with only the the clinking sounds of sliverware echoing from the dining room. The rest of the maidservants dining on a smaller table to the far left, enjoying what seemed to be like the leftover parts of the dishes.

It leaves him feeling hollow once more.

"Do you miss Seoul at all?" Mayumi speaks for the first time since his visit.

Minhyuk bites his tongue. The question is heavy, but not difficult at all.

"No." he is quick to say. "There is nothing worth remembering of that bloodied land."

She raises an eyebrow. "Not even your mother?"

There he falls silent, and he is almost tempted to tug at her pleated locks and show her just how much his mother suffered. How much he had cried that night, just at the very sound of Japanese echoing from outside his room.

But he was a tool of trade, so he looks to his rhs left instead and eyes their mother, visibly enraged.

_She knew nothing._

"I've not a thing of her to remember by, and as such I have no mother."

She doesn't speak anymore and instead let's the tension rise.

"But I'm sure most of your memories were built here in Manila. Don't you remember? Back when all of you were children, always by the gardens. Minhyuk here always making flower crowns for the both of you, but then you'd complain about the fire ants on each petals." Jiyeon narrates.

Mari seems to catch her mother's intent. "And Kihyun would always get too competitive," she adds. "How is he, by the way?"

"As sensitive as ever." he answers. "Always finding complications."

Her cheeks flush faintly as he speaks to her directly and she raises a cup of wine to her lips. "is it not because of you?"

A burst of giggles bubbles up from the room.

The atmosphere became much, much lighter.

But Minhyuk does not care for any of it, still.

* * *

 

It is late when they finish, the evening lit with twinkling crystals, the houses dimly lit.

"I'll see you then!" Minhyuk waves.

"Wait!"

Mari puts down her fan and leans in closer. "There's something I've been wanting to say, would you please follow me to the garden?"

He only nods in reply, the gazes from her sister and mother crawling up to his skin.

They arrive at the garden, roses of a deep velvet red abundant.

Surely, they wouldn't need any more.

Mari turns her back and fiddles with the pocket in her skirts. Her pale hand reveals a wooden compact madeout of varnished wood and she hands it to him.

"A while ago, at the dinner table. You said you've nothing to remember your mother by- but you do. Just look at the mirror, you've her eyes all the way down to the lips. You were her greatest gift."

He glances at the compact and turns his eyes away. People had always told him he was attractive, and he knew that. Perhaps a little too well. But the reminder of his mother still stung, and now with words he could never unhear, it became difficult to look again when the last he saw of his mother's eyes were only tears.

"But you, you look nothing of your father nor of your mother." He catches himself say before he could bite down on his lips. It leaves her with an audible gasp, but Mari regains herself eventually.

"S-surely not all of us will carry our parents' exact traits. I've read it from the books that came from Europe."

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow. "By who? Doctor Elias, perhaps?" He stares at her for a moment before turning around. "I've got to go, it is late and I have business to finish. I'll see you then."

"The mass starts by six next week." She whispers weakly.

He turns away before he could her whimpers.

His hands start to feel heavy. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm???


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rlly sorry,, waking up at 5 am and going home at 5 pm is more tiring than I will admit. 10th grade is rlly hard!!!

"Your roses, nobleman." 

A quarter to nine after he has left the house. The path is silent with a soft neigh from a nearby horse. The chaffeur was late. 

Or perhaps he had not expected Minhyuk to come back at all. 

"Sir-" 

He does not register the presence of another man, nor does he understand his words. 

"Your roses." 

The third try is enough to get his attention. "Sorry?" 

"There is something you've left behind." 

It is the first time Minhyuk has seen the shoeshiner in full height, appearing much slimmer than he thought he was. "What was it?" 

"The ones you've brought last morning." 

The noblman eyes a set of burning tapers fro a window across. 'I left them for you,' he thinks to himself, but it is much more mortifying than he cares to admit. "Oh, those." 

"Will you take them?" 

"Only to throw them yes," He whispers. "Can you tell me your name?"

"What use would you have of it?" The smile on the man's face makes him go wary. 

"Just something to keep in mind." 

"Chae Hyungwon..."

He stretches out his hand, and Hyungwon notes the thick fabric of his suit. "Lee MInhyuk." 

Hyungwon does not take it, however. He glances at the deep velvet of the whithered roses and puts it to his hand instead. "Take them, so you may lament your incredible lack of courtesy in courtship suppers." 

The words leave him slightly baffled, but he does not mind at all. "Shall I give you a ride home?"

"No, common work is tiring, but never dirty." 

"Have you a wife that waits for you at home?" 

He chokes on his words. "No," 

"There are lot of Koreans here however." Minhyuk ponders. "Or are you not interested in women at all?" 

Hyungwon's gaze is cold and Minhyuk braces himself for a strike.

"How could I, when the red on their lips stings my eyes, the powders on their face make me cough and the flutters of their fans make me dizzy? When tehy could care less of their man and more about the sweet words on a letter?"

A sharp, pitched laugh slowly erupts into a boisterous one akin to dolphins. Minhyuk was one strange man. "What selfish-" He wipes a tear form his eye, "selfish people we are." 

"We?" 

There is not much time left to answer, when the sound of an engine approaches closely. Minhyuk walks toward Hyungwon and places a rose on top of his head. "You and I, we're very similar, don't you think?" He turns to leave, but pauses beforehand. "Will I be seeing you at the festival next week?" 

A yawn escapes his lips. "Just more work than usual. 

His grin falters and Hyungwo is reminded of old cherry blossoms. "Perhaps you're not wrong in that aspect. Truly, more labor than usual." 

The vehicle turns another way, lighting it's path while the shoeshiner faces his, lanterns falling asleep at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be published along with the next chapter but I felt as if thsi one needed it's solo moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY WHAT'S UP  
> Lmao. I know I took way longer again but I have my reasons. First off, 10th grade harder than i thought and I had to study a lot since I wanted this year to be the year where I finally don't slack off at math so yeah it really exhausted me. Next, chapter 4 is the part where the plot thickens, as they say. In my case, the story expands. New characters are introduced and new plotlines are presented. I was very scared to publish them since I had many mistakes so I had to rewrite a whole lot. But I'm finally satisfied with this one so, off we go!
> 
> ALSO:   
> A quick note before you attack me. There are a bit of sexist remarks. That is because well, it's the 20th century. There's still sexism here and there and yeah. But I assure you, this fic won't turn out to be sexist, you will learn in the later chapters.

Manila was booming. 

The air crisp and the sun still warm as if blessed by the gods. Minhyuk takes in account the colourful banderitas hung around, tables of food and decorative tapestry. Everyone was in their best attire, others more traditional while most donned high-fashioned dresses that have just risen in popularity in America. 

Everyone was wealthy, with smiles no diamond could ever afford. 

Wealthier than him.

"Manila is healing, and so are we." He shivers. A small hand gripping on his shoulder, the touch burning. 

He takes off his hat and spares her with a glance. "But why is it so, Lady Mari, that I feel as if I am losing myself even more?" 

She muses. "Medicine is always bitter, puts you in a daze before you wake up healed." 

"Oh sister Mari, I do hope you only jest." The voice is much more smooth. "We have an entirely different illness, don't you think?" She eyes them with lengthened eyelashes, almost accusing. "The ones that kill only us, people like us. Manila is but a drug we are more than willing to take." 

Minhyuk's eyes meets hers. For second, he finally comprehends, before she giggles and covers up her face with the fan and everything is lost once again. 

"Minhyuk."

He is too absorbed and almost doesn't hear the familiar voice. 

"Father." 

The man, dressed in a sleek black amerikana. His hair slowly greying, and skin slowly sagging but his eyes retain firm as ever, the amount of sorrow weighing. "We're taking on a kalesa today so as not to disturb such meticulous efforts of the barrio." He smiles towards the lady. "Lady Mari, your sisters shall be waiting." 

"Kalesa? Perfect. The smoke was killing me anyways." His hand waves in remark, glancing down the ebony pipe.

"Damn you," He clicks the light. "Had Lady Jiyeon not approached me I would have sent you off to Europe a long time ago."  
\- 

"The sermon, I presume has been one of his best ones yet,"

Jiyeon snaps her fan closed and faces Lee Seungjin in stunning valor. "Perfect, we shall meet before noon to have our portraits painted. However, I must take my girls off to tia Corazon to have them ready. Clara is this feast's most anticipated lady, we must show some competition- " There is a pause at her words, a moment of realization that makes her cheeks flush. "Oh- but this is a woman's sort of story, you mustn't be getting any of my words, hmm? Well,in that case, we shall get going and we will see you by then." She giggles softly and waves at her girls to follow her to the kalesa.

Minhyuk drags his foot agains the cement and fiddles with his tie.

“The house is almost ready. I must admit, your friend- Kihyun, he has an eye for design.” His father speaks in the usual manner, never looking at his son’s eyes. 

Minhyuk chuckles. “No, he just has an intolerance for mess- a severe intolerance.” 

“Is that so? Then I shall hope it is contagious- to you most specially.” 

He bites his lips and impatiently taps his foot, watching his father light the tobacco. “What, so I can clean up the mess you’ve made?” 

Seungjin grumbles and rearranges his greying hair. “Watch your mouth, boy.”

He begins to leave. “And you, old man, watch your lungs.” 

“Where are you headed to?”

“Just a friend. Don’t worry father, I won’t skip the portrait session.”

“You better not be late.” 

“Has a woman’s absence made you forgetful, father? Women are always late.” He remarks, laughing. He knew the pain he’d been causing by his words well enough. But it was fine to let them lament on their actions for a while, it gave them an opportunity to stop and think. Something the rich barely ever did. It isn’t like I deserve any better. Minhyuk thinks to himself, but he’d go over that another day when he trips. 

\- 

The bag is hefty and his watch is an hour short. He hums. The festivities have barely begun and he glances over at the eager men on their work. They’d have to leave their posts by afternoon in order to provide way for the parade later on. He stops by a fairly known shoeshiner by his post beside a watchmaker and empties the bag in front of him. 

“Yoo Kihyun, interior designer.” He introduces himself to the melancholic man. “I need two holes by the end of the buckle. Can you do that?” 

The familiar waft of smoke reaches the man’s nose but he does not mind. He is handed te pair with much care and thought as he inspects the material carefully. Heavy and thick mahogany- colored leather. Faintly smelled of pine, most likely from Baguio. There is a small engraving by the heels carved in the initias of ‘S.H’. The shoes must have been made in Marikina. Though only two years in his work, boredom had motivated him to inspect each and every shoe for they told lots of stories. No one had ever left their houses without a pair. They spoke more than a person themselves. 

“Do you mind staying? It won’t take too long.”

“That’s fine. Much better, actually.”

“This looks well-maintained.” Hyungwon comments, holding the shoe against the sunlight. 

Kihyun glances at the man’s face for the first time and admires his smooth features. What was a man with such a face doing, scrubbing stranger’s shoes for a living? “Why yes I shine them regularly-oh.” He catches himself. “You must not like people like me.” 

“It’s alright. Sometimes I do wonder why people don’t like to clean themselves.” He presses a hole. “But then again, people hate lowering themselves down.”

His words leave Kihyun to reflect as he mulls the thoughts over.”You’re not like most people, are you then?”

“I don’t really know. I like doing mindless things when I’m not at my post. Lots of people like to think, but I do not. I’d rather not.” 

“What would you rather do?”

“Sleep.” 

“Ah, like most of the español, hmm? Siestas. The reason why most of the afternoon is quiet except for a few jeepneys and cars. Damn, I’d like that for a bit in my life too.” 

“You must have a lot of worries in life.” 

He already knows the implications of his words. “What do you mean?”

“This pair is way too big to be yours also way too clean. The initials aren’t the same either.”

“Observant, aren’t you?"

“Most would like to call it nosey.” 

“Tsimoso.” Kihyun calls and they both burst into laughter. “It belongs to someone I know very well. A medical doctor. He looks very strong but really gentle. He was called to the United States two months ago, but just now I’ve received a letter from him saying that he would be able to go back in a week.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I pray every day that he does.” 

They let the silence linger and engulf them with a silent wish-a silent prayer. This budding hope that refused to leave his lips in fear. Because things always came out differently when they were already spoken.  
“Well,” The shoeshiner holds up his work and gives a final brush before letting Kihyun inspect. 

“Brown really is very much like him. Black is always too business and too corrupt. Anyways, how much will this cost me?”

“Two pesos.”

“Alright, thanks again. I’ll drop by again soon.” 

When he leaves, he coughs out the heavy scent that fills up his lungs. Hyungwon tries to see in colour, in cream and eggshell. 

Black does not suit Minhyuk at all. 

-

Mayumi felt ill. 

Her reflection shone from the ornate mirror in the parlour. Bright skin, white teeth, flushed cheeks and dark straight hair. She was the youth most women envied most. Oftentimes she’d look at her reflection and think of how it must’ve felt for a man to lose control over ephemeral beauty. She looked down on the patterned carpet and stomps her heels all over, dirtying the tapestry which leaves her amused. 

“Mari, do you remember our life back in Seoul?” She asks.

Her sister doesn’t look, too busy applying powder to care. “You mention Seoul often, Mayumi. Are you perhaps homesick?” 

“No, but I’d like to think of how easy life back there was.”

Mari tries to control her rage. “There were complications...”

Mayumi ponders, perhaps she only asked to sate her anxiety. “Mother, will Anthony arrive?”

The tape measure falls on Jiyeon’s neck, in the midst of tying the sash . “Soon enough, dear. Are you a cat, Mayumi? Pouncing about on everyone’s toes these days. You should be careful. Men do not like talkative women.”

“And I do not like talkative men.”

“You are the heir of a tailor, so you need not any man.However, men run this golden world of ours. Such is the way the world works. I’m warning you Mayumi, do not shame me at the party tonight.”

She doesn’t bother to look her mother in the eye, afraid she’d see herself. “Hoseok would not have minded.” 

“No he wouldn’t, but Anthony will.”

Mayumi laughs bitterly. “Father was amazing. He always took me hunting by the woods. In the end I’d always soil mother’s newly made dresses.” 

“I can imagine,” Mari replies. “Mother must’ve been furious.”

“Oh I really was but- Mari, have you and Minhyuk decided on the wedding date yet?” 

“Not yet. But we’d most likely discuss it tonight.” 

“Oh, do not talk to drunk men Mari, it is unwise.“ 

“Then when, mother?”

“Any other night but now.” She says, pulling over the new gown. “We must hurry now, the Lee’s might be waiting.” 

-

“Shine my shoes for me, will you?” 

“Nobleman.” He looks to see his tall, slim figure. All wrapped in the fine cloth of an Amerikano. 

“Will you stop calling me that?”

Hyungwon pulls a new cleaning rag and raises an eyebrow. “Am I wrong, nobleman?”

“In so many different ways. I might lose every single bit of that title.” 

“How so?”

“Because you have stolen it all.” He grins. 

The shoeshiner’s eyes narrow, ignoring his comment. “How did you get this so dirty early in the morning?”

“A little trip along the way.” 

Unamused, he takes the shoes. “I see. Good that you brought them in early or I wouldn’t be here. The others have packed up already.” 

“Why haven’t you?” 

“I was held up by another client.”

“Oh. Can I at least see you tonight?” 

He swallows the lump in his throat. “Pardon?”

“I was talking about the feast! There is a celebration at our estate tonight. Everyone is allowed to come. Will you?” 

His heart beat pumps a little faster and it irks his other senses. “You’ll know my answer if you see me tonight. But for now, I still have a few people to attend to.” 

Minhyuk agrees at his words already knowning he had won. He pays him and leaves, smiling for the first time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very conversation-heavy isn't it? And for those confused, they are most of the time speaking in Filipino. Of course there's a bit of english mixed here and there since that kind of language is very common in the Philippines but yeah Filipino unless otherwise stated.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed lol, See you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! 4 months of vacation hell yeah!

" _Wonderful evening we're having, Lady Jiyeon. How is the tailor going?"_

 

"Oh Rafael, it's going wonderful! The modern designs seem to be rising in popularity. Anthony's been a great help in informing me of the new American styles."

 

They have entered the studio no later than one in the afternoon, a grand hall with a rustic sign, displaying a few sample portraits and a long list of prices.

 

The conversation is genuine but almost practiced. Minhyuk can't help but stare blankly at the pleasant exchange, mind wandering around until he catches the artist's hands. Tanned and moulded by the weight of each stroke. He looks to be no younger than 50 but it was as if he never aged at all. "Nice to meet you, sir Rafael Lorenzo." He greets, voice steady and unsure of what he should present himself as. His father always told him, _'Introduce your best self to an artist because that is how they will picture you forever.'_ But he never really knew which of him was his best; no part was ever good.

 

"Ah, truly. A handsome man could only have a handsome son." He grins. "How long have you stayed here for?"

 

Seungjin tightens his cuffs and clears his throat, a hand on his son's shoulders. "Founded a bank that expanded through most of the southeast asia in the last decade after the mining. We've been here for nine years."

 

"I see. Must've hit a goldmine, have you?" he jests before arranging the clutter of oil paint and brushes around the drawer then ushers them toward the stairs to his main studio.

 

The inside truly revealed that this man's name was not to be taken lightly. A large window placed behind the canvas, natural light pouring through the walls. A table of different tools lay across neatly, beside a big tapestry that hung on the wall for a background. Minhyuk noticed several other desks by the door an noticed someone occupying it. A pale man concentrating on different poses from a guidebook, the radio softly playing a song he did not know. He seems to be in the midst of immersion, eyes nowhere but on the paper itself and it's almost fascinating until he hears the light switch and his eyes snap back to his master, expression shifting to an uneasy and restricted look. "Goodmorning, you must be the guests Sir. Lorenzo has mentioned." He greets. "Shall I get the materials for you, sir?"

 

Lorenzo shakes his head, a certain kind of fondness at the tip of his lips. He pulls out the already primed canvas and sets it up the easel. "I'd like you to start doing the sketches. They're all fine men and women, it is a good study."

 

"But sir- such a big client..."

 

"Do not underestimate yourself too much, Hoseok. You've had multiple commissions within this year. As my one and only apprentice, I trust you'll do your best."

 

He sighs. "Please position yourselves here," He leads them to the blank wall.

 

"Please excuse us if this takes a while." Lorenzo nods, looking at their arrangement. "We prefer to be more traditional, if that's alright."

 

"We're not in a rush." Seungjin agrees.

 

Hoseok begins by drawing a faint horizontal line and placing the outline of their figures. The thing that made portrait sessions so hard was the presence of mind that he lacked greatly added with the pressure from such a big client, he felt anxious. The son of the businessman was too hard to grasp, his face a distant smile. Hoseok did not know what to do. Leaving nothing but a shadowy figure, he moves on to his father. Tall, proud and sturdy but tired from the way his shoulders slope downwards ever so slightly His lips slightly darkened from tobacco and eyes just a bit drowsy, he finishes his face quite well.

 

Hoseok finishes with the ladies, their hair smooth and flowing with little to no roughness at the edges. Too porcelain and animated, with the curves like that of the caricatures he did for fun on the newspapers. He ends with a tap of his pencil to the desk and looks for his master's approval. It was almost four in the afternoon.

 

"You really have learned quite well, Hoseok. "

 

He bows his head as a sign of gratitude before dusting away the residue on the canvas.

 

"Well, my dearest clients, your session is done for the day." Lorenzo announces, the family slowly rising from their positions.

 

Seungjin walks forward to shake both of the artists' hands. "Thank you for your work. Lady Jiyeon and I have brought coffee beans for your merienda, we're unable to join you but please enjoy as you wish." He carries the bag of goods along with an envelope carrying the installment of the commission and hands it over to Lorenzo who accepts it gracefully. "We will be seeing you tonight, yes? You and your apprentice?"

 

"Of course. That's why we're closing earlier today."

 

"We are?"

 

"Mm. I told you that yesterday but it seems you didn't hear me."

 

"Bring a friend along if you want," Minhyuk adds.

 

"Of course sir, thank you very much."

 

The clients take their leave after the short exchange, the studio atmosphere dwindling down to a certain sort of emptiness.

 

"The son," Lorenzo states. "You find it hard to draw him, no?"

 

Hoseok stares down at the pattern of the carpet feeling embarrassed. "Yes. But I do not know why."

 

"He is a very complicated boy."

 

"But his features aren't even that hard!"

 

The painter laughs at his apprentice's apparent distress and gives him a pat on the back. "It doesn't matter. The portrait won't ever leave the studio anyways." He smiles. Before the younger could even open his mouth, he pushes him towards the table. "Let's hurry and eat, you have a party to get ready for, don't you?"

  
-

"Won!" Hoseok calls from the entrance, squeezing his way in through the pile of junk that narrowed the tight hallway of their shared two-story flat. The situation wasn't that bad really, two friends, trying hard to earn their keep had just managed to fit in and pay for a slightly more comfortable place than the one they could afford individually. It's been two years since then, and he's still grateful to the pair of mechanics from Binondo who had offered it to them.

 

"Hoseok, you're early." Hyungwon greets from the sink, washing his face. "Closing early for the fiesta too?"

 

"Uh yeah, that and-" Hoseok mumbles, struggling to take the shoes off his feet. "Remember the bigshot clients I told you about ? The mining boss and the ladies from the tailors hop? We've been invited to their feast! Both for the celebration of the fiesta and the rise of a new office building at Quezon City." 

 

The shoeshiner frowns in between his friend's words and turns the tap off. "A mining boss and an owner of a tailor shop, you say?"

 

"Right. I didn't catch all of their names, but I do remember their son, Lee Minhyuk."

 

"Oh."

 

"Why? You know him?"

 

"Can't say I don't."

 

"Making friends with sophisticated people now, are we? One handsome friend is enough, 'Won." He teases.

 

"Far from sophisticated, really. He's rebellious, annoying, pushy and scatterbrained, he'll talk about something and leave you in the next second." Hyungwon rants, his cheeks a bright red. Why did Minhyuk have to appear at every aspect of his life? He was nothing more than a shoeshiner, surely he wasn't of any importance to the numerous connections that man probably had.

 

"Woah, easy! You sound like you know him a lot. Based from your description, he's really lively, but his face was sullen and he barely talked at all during the session. Must've had a bad day, I guess."

 

Hyungwon recalls their conversation earlier. "He's running away. From his fate, from everything he's been born into."

 

"Do you think it's a good thing then?" Hoseok pulls the curtains and picks up the forgotten newspaper. "You're the one who'd know that better than anyone."

 

"It's different for him."

 

"Sorry rich boys, I don't know a thing. But if it helps, I stumbled upon a poem of his from this morning's paper. It's pretty good, beautiful yet almost sad. Funny how that works for men who have everything." he hums to himself, tossing the paper over Hyungwon's head. "I'm using the bath first, gotta look extra handsome for that feast tonight."

 

"What, looking for an easy way on top?"

 

"No, I'm a man of dignity. Which is also why I'm not taking any offers to work in print media, at least not yet."

 

"Heard it pays well."

 

"Well liars always get paid well, right?" He replies before closing the bathroom door. 

 

Hyungwon waits until he hears the sound of running water and proceeds to open the newspaper, thoroughly surprised by a poem directly under Minhyuk's name.

-

**The Courtship Supper**

_If I had met you at another day_  
_Another night than before_  
_Just another person, nothing more_  
_I could have begged you to stay_

_But my suit is pressed and my flowers are fresh_  
_No different from a graveyard visit_  
_For what awaits ultimately is my death_  
_And life, as I have it, will not spare me even a minute_

_-_

It's short and quite abrupt but it leaves Hyungwon scattered, salvaging the last of the words with his eyes, too afraid to assume. He laughs bitterly.

 

_'Damn you, Minhyuk. If only then, if only it hadn't been you who I waited for."_

 

He really didn't want to see him tonight. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the poem is shit, if I come up with a better one I'll replace it. But yeah!!! The party scene is in the next chapter and all it needs is to be typed out! Y'all getting more backstory and Kihyun content hehehe.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts?


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